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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886039">Your Tsunami Touch Pulls Me In</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl'>unremarkablegirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, M/M, Mutual Pining, spacekru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:48:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unremarkablegirl/pseuds/unremarkablegirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emori's just taking English Lit as a breadth requirement. Murphy just needs people to stop asking why he's wasting time on a creative writing minor. Neither are interested in soulmates, spurned as they've been by fate. But meeting in that class had to have been fate, no?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Echo &amp; Emori (the 100), Echo/Raven Reyes, Emori &amp; Raven Reyes, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Jasper Jordan/Maya Vie, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Monty Green/Harper McIntyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Cute Romance Fanfics, t100fic4blm Donation Celebration</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Tsunami Touch Pulls Me In</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for t100fic-for-blm donation celebration!  <a href="https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/">Check out the carrd here!</a></p><p>This is by far my longest piece and my first multi-chapter work!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>He is the feeling of waves lapping at your ankles, he is the first shock of cold to the system as you dip your toes in the water. But he is also the wave that knocks you down, he is the sting of saltwater to your eyes, the feeling of burning lungs, and panicked flailing. He is the heartstopping moment when you are immersed in watery shadows with no idea of up or down. He is a tsunami waiting to destroy everything you’ve built just out of reach, he is the flood ready to submerge your memories, pulling you under, swallowing you whole. He is the feeling of weightlessness as you float on your back, he is sunwarmed waves and lazy afternoons. He is the wonder of finding shells and the pinch of crab claws. He is the delight in startling schools of fish and the bright colours of coral reefs. He is the strain of fighting against the current, pushing forward, and somehow finding yourself at the bottom, ready to open up his oyster shells of secrets. He is volatile and unknown, but he is also buoyed warmth and the feeling of comfort as you are surrounded.</i>  </p><p>
  <i>She is the steadiness of the ever rotating earth but also the jagged sharpness of sheer cliff face and the terror of earthquakes as everything you’ve ever known falls apart. She is the heartstopping moment of sinkholes opening beneath your feet pulling you down and down and down, swallowing you whole. She is the soft touch of dew topped grass under your feet, she is the feeling of elation and lightheadedness as you climb to mountaintops. She is the gems and minerals stored in the core of the earth, her love and beauty a secret, only discovered through excursion and delving deep beneath her walls. She is the sand beneath your feet as you stare out at calm waters and the stone beneath your palm and the pull of gravity on your dangling feet as you sit atop a cliff’s edge. She is solid and safe and everything you’ve ever known just as she is prone to change, her volatility oft forgotten.</i>
</p><p>**</p><p>First day of this stupid class and Emori already regretted showing up. She stifled a yawn into the back of her wrapped wrist as the professor droned on, going over the syllabus and such. Raven was right, she <i>could</i> have skipped this and spent more time in the labs. Ideally, she wouldn’t take the class at all, but she was in her final year and realized she hadn’t fulfilled the breadth requirement for, what was it? She had to skim over the syllabus to realize it was meant to fulfill the History, Writing &amp; Literature component. Whatever, <i>Gradesaver</i> and <i>Sparknotes</i> had her back. </p><p>A collective groan from the class caused her to tune back in just to hear, “Yes, yes there will be a group assignment, pairs to be exact, dissecting the assigned book. And, yes, this will be separate from books assigned for class readings.” The professor’s eyes skimmed over the relatively small class. His lips turned up just a bit as if he enjoyed their pain as he continued, “If it helps, this will not be a presentation but rather a written reflection combining your thoughts and analyses. This is a learning experience, class. Afterall, how often do we bother with other’s opinions? You’ll have a single book but two different perspectives and analyses; you could both have vastly differing opinions and takeaways from the same source material…” </p><p>Emori heaved a sigh, <i>okay, okay, this was fine.</i> This was supposed to be a relatively easy 4.0, but adding in a partner, someone to <i>rely</i> on complicated things a bit. She zoned back out for the rest of the class, mindlessly doodling in her notes app between bouts of random code. She didn’t look up until she heard the scrape of chairs against the floor, signalling the end of class. As she packed up, she realized the other students were clustered at the front, around the professor’s desk. As no one had left, she figured she had to go see what that was about. </p><p>Another student was slow to get to the front as well, she couldn’t see his face but his bomber was pretty sweet. She slowed, walking behind him until they both got to the relatively uncrowded desk where the prof was clearly waiting. Whatever. She and the other student stood side by side, waiting for the professor to speak and she really should learn his name. She bet it was something basic like Dr. Daniels, and <i>right</i> he was speaking.</p><p>“Seeing as you two are the last to see me, you’ll be partners for the analysis, here’s the reading list. I’ll have a rubric ready for the class soon,” meaning he’ll give it to them a week before the deadline. “Best of luck.” With that, he stood and left, fiddling with his wristwatch because of course he was too pretentious to use anything else to cover his soulsign. </p><p>Her lips pinched and she refrained from sighing again. Instead she turned to face her partner, and immediately forgot what she was about to say. Her eyes traced over slightly too big eyes, <i>beautiful colour though,</i> her mind supplied, skimming over a nose that was <i>definitely</i> too big before finding ridiculous cheekbones. He shouldn’t really be good looking and he definitely wasn’t the traditional definition of handsome, and yet. And yet, he was beautiful and that was all she could think of. This was, of course, before he opened his mouth.</p><p>A smirk, the slightest thing, before he spoke, “Guess we’re partners. I’m Murphy. I’m telling you now, I’ll probably be writing most of this thing. I do not need you fucking this up for me. Give me your number, I’ll tell you what I need from you.”</p><p>And the illusion was ruined.</p><p>Emori felt a smirk of her own crossing her face before she stepped forward, right into his personal space, “Awfully cocky, aren’t we? Don’t think I’ll let you submit anything without my approval, I’m not interested in signing my name onto whatever bullshit you spew.” </p><p>She stepped back and held her hand out, her left one, the one missing two fingers. Her eyes didn’t leave his face, drinking in his reaction and ready to tear into him. “I’m Emori, by the way.”</p><p>She couldn’t quite name the expression on his face, she would call it shock but that couldn’t be because his eyes hadn’t even left her face, hadn’t noticed what was hovering between the two of them. He finally tears his eyes away, glancing down at her outstretched hand, notably quiet and devoid of any other reaction as he reached up and grasped her hand without hesitance. His palm felt good against hers, almost like it belonged—nope, no, he’s an ass. She withdrew her hand, scratched at her wrist, fiddled with her soulcover, smoothed it down over her soulsign, trailed her fingers over the centre of it. Her hands stilled as he handed her his phone. </p><p>“Guess we’ll actually be working together then,” came his reply, the smirk back on his face. She wanted to smack it off. Whatever. After an agreement to go over the booklist and narrow down their own interests, they left the classroom. Glancing at the students waiting outside, she was glad for the university’s unofficial 10-after rule.  </p><p>As she exited the building and walked over to the labs, her mind surprisingly went back to the professor’s wristwatch. He was pretty old, she wondered if he hadn’t found his soulbonded yet or if he was simply a private man. Soulsigns were a private affair, appearing a year after one’s first memory—that had taken scientists decades to decipher—on the wrist of their dominant hand and staying there even after death; they were permanent reflections of the soul. But, permanent only meant that the soulsigns were there to stay, not that they were unchanging. It seemed that they were reflections of commonalities between the bonded, changing with time and memories, lending credit to the concept of <i>tabula rasa:</i> the soul is the sum of its experiences. </p><p>It was thought that seeing someone else’s soulsign before they were bonded could influence one’s own, changing the <i>tabula,</i> so to speak, altering it unknowingly, playing with fate. That was why the unbonded covered their soulsigns or, more specifically, those that thought they were unbonded. The soulsigns settled when soulbonded met, representing the experiences that shaped them into the perfect match for the other, representing their lives before meeting, reminding them that even if they didn’t yet know the other, they had commonalities. The soulsigns said <i>here we both are, having never met before, having lived full lives still.</i> They said, <i>I have survived and fought and thrived without you, and you without I, look how it has shaped us. When we look down we see the amalgamation of what has led us to each other, of what has given us the strength to move forward, together.</i> </p><p>As she walked, her eyes wandered, unthinkingly lingering on the wrists of those she passed. There were many, she knew, that admitted to constantly checking their marks in private, those that were obsessed with seeing how their lives were painted instead of simply living them. They looked down at their arms, waiting for change, perhaps hoping not to find any, knowing then that they had met their bonded and using that to guide themselves forward. Emori, herself, had not checked her soulsign since she graduated high school. She scoffed at those that couldn’t seem to leave marks alone, choosing instead to focus on herself and the life she currently had and the goals of tomorrow. She couldn’t be bothered trying to figure out who her bonded was even if some said there would be a gut feeling, instant attraction, a need to gravitate towards the other, however unknowingly. </p><p>As intuitive as she was, she didn’t quite believe that she’d find her soulbonded listening to her gut. Whatever. If the universe decided that she absolutely needed someone else, that she was to rely on another being, that she was to implicitly trust this man, this other half of hers, then the universe would have to bring him to her—preferably gift wrapped. She huffed, absentmindedly trailed her fingers across her soulcover before shoving her hands into her pockets and making her way across campus. </p><p>**</p><p>Raven was already in the lab they had commandeered for the semester, probably had been for a while, when Emori got there. In front of her were her laptop and the small-scale replica of their prototype for their personal project. The prototype sitting in front of Raven looked like a glove, just with more wires. It was meant to sense the motion and shape of one’s hand as they signed, allowing their ASL to be translated into spoken language. Neither of them were linguists, nor did they have any linguistic background beyond a first year bird course but they didn’t need to be. There were several language corpora that they were able to fall back on; should they need more aid, they were always welcome in the computational linguistics lab on campus. Those guys mostly focused on experiments and brain imaging but the professors were always willing to help tease problems apart. Given that neither had the academic background for this, they weren’t able to use it in any of their classes, so it became their own adventure, a challenge and a prize wrapped in one.</p><p>They had spent most of the summer on campus, toiling away at it, thankful for the amount of student research grants they were able to snag after they realized just how well and truly complicated their endeavour was. Despite this being outside of their normal areas of expertise, they were adamant that they could pull it off. </p><p>Also in front of Raven was, of course, a large vanilla latte that Emori grabbed before even greeting the other. A sip and she could taste the several espresso shots in there. Raven’s glare greeted her as she lowered the cup. “At this point, I’m surprised you don’t just buy two coffees if this actually pisses you off.” </p><p>Raven, still not speaking, simply let her gaze drift to the other end of the lab table where another coffee cup sat. “Ah, oops,” accompanied by an insincere little shrug.</p><p>And there it was, that little snort that meant she was forgiven. Emori grinned as she set down Raven’s cup to get at her own black coffee, the shot of caramel in there giving it a sweet scent. </p><p>As she sat, Raven pushed away the replica and closed down her laptop, Emori’s presence signalling the start of her mandatory break before they continued together. “So, how’s that, what is it? Writing class?”</p><p>Emori couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped as she slumped over the table. “That bad, huh?” She could feel Raven’s amusement rolling off her. Of course, overachiever that she is, she dealt with all her breadth requirements in first year. </p><p>Lifting her head, Emori glared at Raven’s smug face. “First of all, it’s English Lit. and second of all, yes. The professor is ridiculously pretentious and, and!” Her voice was rising, “We have a group project! In an English course! Can you believe that? Doesn’t help that my partner seems like a complete dick. He was all like ‘oh, don’t bother doing anything, wouldn’t want you to ruin it.’ Like, <i>excuse</i> me?”</p><p>Raven was laughing at her because of course she was but that didn’t stop Emori, “And get this, he introduced himself as Murphy, just Murphy. What, he’s too cool for a first name? Prick.” She sniffed lightly, waiting for Raven to stop laughing. </p><p>When she did, she almost literally did a double take. “Wait, did you say Murphy? Bigass nose, brown hair, probably had a nice bomber, most definitely pretty rude?”</p><p>Emori could only nod in response before Raven was snorting out another laugh, “Yeah, he’s in a couple of classes with Echo, they’re pretty close. She says he’s the only one there that matches her in sass and she obviously likes that he’s sorta a dick. I’ve met him a couple times, a bit standoffish but I gotta admit, he’s funny.” </p><p>Unbidden, Emori’s eyes darted down to Raven’s uncovered wrist at the mention of Raven’s soulmatch. Unbidden, still, Emori’s hand moved to lay its palm over her own as her fingers curled around her wrist. She remembers when Raven and Echo had realized what they were, she was there. Echo, Monty, and Harper had been in the lab with them when Raven’s soulcover had snagged and ripped on the broken circuit board she had been working on. Echo, normally so outspoken and headstrong, had gone quiet, shy, eyes flickering from Raven’s bared wrist to her face. Raven hadn’t noticed, too busy muttering over the board and absentmindedly trying to rety her ripped soulcover. Emori would never be able to forget the soft sparkle in Echo’s eyes nor the peace, the wonder, and the joy that had been written across her face. She and the other two had left the lab, leaving behind a nervous Echo and confused Raven. That had been two years ago. </p><p>“How is Echo, by the way? Still trying to get you to be organized?”</p><p>That led the conversation away from Murphy before she blurted out something stupid about his ridicolous cheekbones or soft looking hair. As the conversation went on and they turned to their work, he slipped from her mind, her focus turning instead to the inner workings of what she considered her baby. If her and Raven pulled this off, it would be their crowning achievement and set them in a wholly different league than other undergraduate students. Back and forth they went, troubleshooting code and finally finding that one specific line of code that had been causing them hell for the past week. </p><p>He didn’t even cross her mind when Echo—Raven’s own guide, and something akin to a sister to Emori—came to collect them with an announcement of, “Okay my beautiful tech nerds, it’s six, I just got out of International Relations and I already hate it, let’s go grab some food,” followed by grabbing a kiss from a still slightly distracted Raven. </p><p>Emori stretched her back out with a groan. They had been at it for close to three hours, if they hadn’t applied for a personal lab they would have been kicked out after the first hour. Raven was still typing, Echo and Emori shared a glance and Echo tilted her head. Right, it was Emori’s turn.</p><p>She didn’t really feel like getting into an argument or yelling at Raven so she cast around for a second before speaking, “Hey, doesn’t <i>Uncle Pete’s</i> usually have a deal for the first week of classes? I haven’t had some good, greasy pizza in a while.”</p><p>Raven’s hands twitch, gotcha. Echo’s lips turn up at the corners, “Oh god, yes. And you know we’ll end up subsiding off of ramen again sooner or later since neither of us can cook,” accompanied by a pointed look in Raven’s direction. Her hands had stilled over the keyboard, <i>gotcha.</i> </p><p>**</p><p>After dinner, Echo and Raven dropped Emori back at her place with Monty, Jasper, and Harper before heading back to theirs. All three of them were in the main room, Maya was there too, curled up with Jasper. She didn’t have much time to slip away before they, well mostly Jasper, wrangled her into a few rounds of <i>Mario Kart.</i> It wasn’t that she didn’t love them or anything, she just wasn’t much of a people person and felt like she had reached her daily quota between her two classes of the day and dinner. </p><p>She managed to get away when Maya decided it was time to go home. While she could admit that she had had fun, it was tiring being around the two sickly sweet couples. As she reclined on her bed, she admitted to herself that it was tiring to constantly be around soulbonded couples, full stop. Her hand came up to grip her wrist over her soulcover as she lost herself in her thoughts. </p><p>Growing up, she had been the odd one out, the one with the missing fingers, the one that wasn’t even whole. She had been a bit too sharp, a bit too likely to lash out and bite, a bit too quick on her feet, a bit too smart, a bit too <i>feral</i>. That hadn’t changed much when Otan had passed and she was sent to the group home, it had almost surely gotten worse before Raven got transferred to her home and they bunked together. For the first time, she wasn’t the smartest person in the room, far from it, in fact. And for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to be a step ahead of everyone, didn’t feel the need to constantly be planning and plotting and on edge. She had found a home in Raven and Raven in her. </p><p>Their little family grew larger when Monty had transferred to their high school, Jasper following soon after having begged his parents to join Monty; the two pairs meeting in science club, of all places. They, the four of them, had been enough, both Monty and Jasper’s parents welcoming Raven and Emori into their homes, offering them their love as well. Monty and Jasper had helped the two of them with their scholarship and grant applications, they had all scoured the web for the most obscure of scholarships and divided them amongst the four of them. The day they found out they all got into the same university is still one of her favourite memories. The relief she had felt at not yet being ripped away from all that she had was overwhelming. </p><p>Of course, their little circle had grown when they reached university, away from all that they had known and already feeling the weight of student debt for there was still only so much scholarships could cover. Monty had been the first, bringing home Harper, whom he had met on a nature walk of all things. With Harper had come Echo—the contrast between the two stark—who had brought with her Bellamy and Gabriel who had brought Octavia and Lincoln and their quartet had grown. Maya had been the most recent addition, joining them at the end of the past winter semester when her and Jasper had literally run into each other—they’re both clutzes, go figure—and he had awkwardly offered to replace her spilled hot chocolate. They had only figured out they were soulbonded towards the end of the summer and had thus decided to take things slow. In fact, the two of them still kept their soulsigns covered, which surprised her but who was she to judge?</p><p>And that was everyone, wrapped up in a little bow, wrapped around their significant other, their heart, their soul, their moon and their sun, their—a sharp pain cut into her thoughts. She paused, lifted her head, looked at her hands settled upon her chest, slowly unpried her fingers from where they gripped her wrist, felt the sharp prick of pain as her fingernails, one, two, and three, lifted themselves from their burrow under her skin. Her hands trembled before she curled them into fists, uncurled them, stared until they settled. Only then did she trace around the band of her soulcover, finding no tears, unable to bring herself to lift it in search of bruises. If they existed, she’d heal, if not, she’d be as fine as she always has been. </p><p>With a sigh, she heaved herself up and set her feet on the floor. Whatever. She had never needed anyone to feel complete and she didn’t need anyone coming in to mess around with her future. Glancing at the clock, she realized she may as well go to bed if she was only going to give into her despondence despite not having class until well into the afternoon the next day. More importantly, she also realized she hadn’t checked her phone since after Raven’s promised <i>we got home</i> text. </p><p>After patting down her pockets and realizing she had dumped it on top of her bag by her door, she unlocked her phone to the regular <i>Snapchat</i> notifications, a couple Instagram notifications that were probably Jasper just sending her obscure memes but which could have just as easily been Harper spamming the group chat with more cute animals. There were a few emails from professors, one of which was for tomorrow’s class which she bookmarked. She had thought that’d be the end of it, but buried under all those notifications, was a text from an unknown number.  </p><p>[unknown number]<br/>
<b>Hey. It’s Murphy, thought ud want my number 2 since u apparently wanna ‘work 2gther’</b> </p><p>Emori stared down at her phone, torn between rolling her eyes or smiling at his odd mix of text shorthand and proper grammar. She did snort at his quotation marks, though, sure that he’d try to find a way out of it but she was looking forward to knocking him down a peg, regardless of how much she actually hated English Literature. Spite was a powerful motivator, it was mostly why she continuously kept going in the face of all the shit life had seen fit to throw her way. Looking back down at her phone, she figured she should reply, just to be polite to the jerk.</p><p>She thought about teasing him, <i>what no first name,</i> but that was too casual and also invited further conversation, cast around for second, wondered why she was putting thought into such a simple text and ended up shooting off a quick text after a remarkable few minutes of deliberation before saving the number under <i>Murphy from Lit.</i></p><p>[me]<br/>
<b>kk, i'll send you my shortlist soon</b></p><p>She didn’t actually think she’d send it all that soon considering they had a little over a month to complete the assignment. If he did start anything without her, he’d have to scrap it. It was then that she realized she was still standing by her door, as if replying to Murphy couldn’t have waited for her to be comfortable. Whatever. </p><p>Still standing by the door, she rifled through her bag, taking out her tablet, deliberating over getting ahead on some readings—thank God for professors that linked free PDFs—deciding against it and instead setting her tablet in charge for the night. After that she wasted another hour flopped on her bed scrolling through <i>Instagram</i> and sending out streaks. She would have most likely ended up rolling out of bed to look over some blueprints for her and Raven’s side project if not for Harper’s text basically ordering her to go to bed at a reasonable time before school shot her sleep schedule to hell. She smiled softly at Harper’s mothering, sending back a heart and then very loudly made her way to the bathroom, slamming the door close just so Harper could hear her. </p><p>After she got back to her room and changed into her pajamas, there were two texts waiting for her: Jasper’s middle finger emoji and Murphy’s acquiescence to waiting on her shortlist which somehow ended up sounding like a threat, even over text. She sent Jasper a kissy face but didn’t deign to respond to Murphy, instead setting her alarm, plugging in her phone and turning off her lights for the night.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come say hi on <a href="https://unremarkablegirl.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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